


Fate/Gramps

by Godzillaslayer101



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon what is that?, Family, Fluff, Gen, Horribly off rails
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:12:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12423879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godzillaslayer101/pseuds/Godzillaslayer101
Summary: "This is not a tale of servants, nor is it a tale of masters, neither yet a tale of saints, least of all a tale of people fulfilling their wishes. This is a tale of a young girl and her adopted grandfather" -Ritsuka Fujimaru





	1. Chapter 1

**Contract 1.1**

Hyouma Sagara held out his right hand. The hotel he was in dominated the Shinjuku skyline, the floor was made out of white marble, and an electric fireplace kept the large room warm and comfortable. Hyouma loved it, the luxury helped him with his host job, and it suited a mage of his status. The best part was the view, from where he was sitting on the leather sectional he could see the lights from the other buildings shining like candles. His right hand clenched into a fist.

Hyouma stared at his hand for a moment, and when he opened his hand the lights still shined, and his right hand was still bare. He grit his teeth, it wasn’t fair! He was the saviour of the Sagara family. Out of all his family he possessed the most Magic Circuits, and the Sagara Magic Crest. The Holy Grail should’ve picked him to be a Master, Not that useless girl!

A soft hand cradled Hyouma’s face, jarring him out of his anger. He let the hand turn his face, and without hesitation accepted the kiss from the woman beside him. He enjoyed the kiss for a moment before pulling away, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, Reika, but why?”

“I can’t stand to see you angry,” The green-haired woman said before she hesitated, “You can tell me about anything, you know that right?”

Hyouma’s eyes glanced to the clock, 1:21 A.M. It wouldn’t hurt if he told her anything, not at this point anyway. He started to run his hand through her hair, “I’m angry Reika-chan, because I’ve been passed over for a part in a once in a lifetime event for a useless girl.”

“Was that really worth throwing her in a closet for?” She said, and Hyouma chuckled, that’s why he loved this woman. Sure, he had hypnotized her into loving him, but she didn’t care about the actions he took. It was such a shame that he was going to have to kill her as a sacrifice to Jack the Ripper, but it wasn’t like there was a lack of whores to hypnotize.

“It’s just a way to put her in her place. I’ll let her out soon, and convince her to give me her position in the contest,” he said before nodding his head. Yes, “convince” was a far more elegant word than murder, and it wasn’t like the girl was actually worth anything. Reika was worth more than her, and she had no magical potential to speak of. He ran his hand through his blonde locks, and his mind briefly wandered as to what glory he would obtain once he made his wish on the Grail. Those fools he was allied with were stepping stones.

Reika giggled and Hyouma looked at the woman in confusion, “I rarely see you so relaxed. It’s a nice look on you.”

He smiled at her, “If we’re talking about things that would make me relaxed. I can think of a few more things.” He leaned over her, and started kissing her.

He was so lost in his arrogance that he never heard the hallway closet opening.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ritsuka quietly limped to the one room, she was absolutely not supposed to be in. She wouldn’t have much time before that idiot realized she had escaped. She sniffed, and then gagged. It smelled like...like blood. She breathed out, and let her eyes adjust to darkness. It was supposed to be a dressing room, but somebody had cleared out all the furniture in order to inscribe a crimson sigil on the marble. It made sense the nine-year old thought, you couldn’t exactly paint a summoning sigil made out of blood if furniture kept getting in the way.

The girl held a hand to her throat as a hysterical giggle fought it’s way out of her throat. She was going to die, if she didn’t focus, and focusing on how that monster had made that sigil was not going to help her.

She envisioned it in her mind, a scene that she’d been talked through the creation of when she was a child. A mighty shield formed in her mind, and once it was unassailable all the forces in creation and outside of it smashed and broke on its face. The words formed in her mind, “ترجمات رئيسية”

Her circuits, few as they were, flared to life, and the nine-year old’s last thought before she started the chant, was that she hoped that idiot had gotten the chant right.

“Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Let each be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time.

_The red-haired girl cried, as the two people walked away._

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.”

_You won’t be learning magic here, accept it, you’re worthless._

“Let my great ancestor ■■■■■■■■ be the ancestor. Raise a wall against the wind that shall fall.”

_“I’m not lying, I can do magic!” They never believed her though._

“Close the four cardinal gates. Come out from the crown. Rotate the three branched road reaching the Kingdom.”

_She eventually learned to smile. She liked to think she had a good one._

“An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of Heaven. I shall have the dominion over all evils of all of Hell!”

The door audibly shook as a fist smashed against it. The girl continued chanting.  
“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!”

_I just want a family!_

The door burst open, just as the room was filled with crimson light

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akasha, the root of all knowledge. The thing that all magi sought to obtain. All that was could be found here. All that is could be found here. All that will be can be found here. One subsection of it was called the Throne of Heroes. In it was the recorded knowledge of humanities heroes. Beings whose deeds or actions were so great that they were removed from the cycle of reincarnation.

The Grail answering Ritsuka Fujimaru's calls searched its records for the most compatible servant. No object connected to a specific heroic spirit had been used, so it was now a matter of pure compatibility. It searched through Heroic Spirits of Assassin, it found a suitable candidate, and chose--

It was rejected violently. Normally the grail would’ve chosen another heroic spirit, but the circumstances were different, and this Heroic Spirit would be needed. It tried again. There was a pause, as the Heroic Spirit decided to accept or reject the call.

The call was accepted.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crimson light disappeared only to be replaced by darkness. Wisps of pure darkness floated around the room, and the two humans could barely breathe. It wasn’t out of awe, but out of fear. The sheer presence of imminent death radiated off of the Heroic Spirit that had been summoned.

It was a giant.

The figure stood around seven foot tall, clad in a black cloak. A greatsword was held by both hands in a downward grip. The figure had no face. That was wrong. In place of a face was an ivory white skull with two horns jutting upward. The eye sockets were illuminated by an azure wisps of flame.

Those azure wisps seemed to stare right into Rituska Fujimaru’s amber eyes, “Do not be afraid, O Contracter. Despite forsaking the title of Grand, I, Assassin of Black, hath come revealed, in answer to thy summons. I have no name. A name that is easy on the tongue would be good.”

**End Contract 1.1**


	2. Contract 1.2

**Contract 1.2**

Hassan-I-Sabbah stared at the girl who had summoned him. He was already processing the information that the grail had given him. He had been summoned in Shinjuku, Japan. A country in the Far East. The Holy Grail War was not a normal one. Instead of the regular seven masters and seven heroic spirits. This would be a war between two teams of Servants and Masters. He was a member of the Black Team. The opposing side was called the Red Team

It didn’t make any sense. He should not have been summoned, even if this was an abnormal Holy Grail War. The only explanation was that Humanity’s continued existence was on the line, but even then...

 _‘She is so small,’_ His contractor would’ve barely reached his knees if she stood on her tippy-toes, that wasn’t even mentioning the flow of mana. He could fight, and be sustained off of it, but using his Noble Phantasm multiple times would likely kill her. He shook his head, enough of this. He would determine the circumstances of why he had been summoned later.

He allowed his blade to disappear, and knelt down so he was eye to eye with the small child. “I ask again, art thou my contractor in this Holy Grail War?” His eyes took in her appearance. She had large bags under her eyes, and the white sundress she was wearing seemed to swallow her up. Her red-hair was disturbed, and hadn’t been taken care of for many days. She seemed to be a prisoner instead of a master in his eyes.

Despite all of that, she stared at him with no fear in her eyes, “I summoned you Mr. Skeleton,” Assassin resisted the urge to palm his face, and ignored the blonde haired man gasping in shock. He was far more focused on the words that came out of her mouth, “What’s the Holy Grail War?”

 _‘Allah, are you testing me?_ ’ Assassin thought before his eyes snapped to the blonde man who had gotten over his fear enough to actually speak.

“I-I-Ignore this girl, Assassin!” The man stuttered, puffing out his chest. “I am your rightful master, and this girl.” His eyes took on a dangerous glint, and he reached out toward the girl. “Is just a pathetic we-”

It didn’t even take a second. One moment Hyouma Sagara had been reaching toward the girl, and in the next, he was struggling to take in air, as the black giant held him by his throat.

“You overstep yourself magus, Art thou as blind as thou art stupid? She clearly possesses the command seals, and is thus mine contractor. Give me your head, if--” Assassin growled as he lightly shook the magus. He stopped as a new smell entered the room. Assassin dropped the man who had emptied his bowels and turned his attention to his contractor who was pinching her nose.

Assassin kneeled again and held out his hand to his contractor, “Come let us leave this place. I have much to explain to you, and thou has a weighty decision to make.”

The girl hesitated for a moment before she grabbed the armored hand. Assassin stood up only to realize that he was now holding the girl a foot off the ground. He ignored her gasp, and put her back down. He then had to duck to exit the room, and he ignored the giggle that his master gave at the action.

He walked down the hallway and focused on the quiet tapping sound of his contractor following after him. They entered the living room, and Assassin was comforted by the fact that despite how many years had passed magi still had horrible taste. He let his eyes drift to the corner of the room where the blonde haired man was cowering along with a green haired woman.

There was a table sitting under a glass chandelier, and Assassin pulled out the chair for the girl.

Assassin pulled out a chair of his own, and sat down on it. The chair only gave a slight groan before Assassin quickly stood up to avoid breaking it.

He waited for her to stop laughing and stared at her. “Contracter thou art obviously a magus, how do you not know of the Holy Grail War?”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say as Ritsuka’s head fell forward. “I’m not a very good one, I just know the very basics,” She paused before her head snapped up, “Wait, when you say The Holy Grail do you mean the one from the tales of King Arthur, and the Round Table.”

Assassin scoffed, “No, that Holy Grail is a construct of heathen fanaticism. The Holy Grail we fight for is a construct made by mages, and is the prize of the war you are now a part of. I am a heroic spirit. My actions during life were so great that I was removed from the cycle of reincarnation. It is our duty in this war to eliminate the other servants of the Red Team, to achieve victory.”

His master leaned forward, and though he would never admit it. Assassin was slightly unnerved by the intensity he saw in those amber eyes. “You said the Holy Grail is the prize if I win. What does it do?” She asked.

Assassin folded his arms, and matched his contractor’s gaze, “When we win. It will grant you any wish you can think of.”

Ritsuka leaned back and swallowed, “Anything?” She asked, in a quiet voice.

“Anything,” Assassin affirmed, nodding his head.

Ritsuka chewed on her lower lip. Anything at all, world peace, riches, a fami-. She shook her head, this was too complicated right now. “Where is the Holy Grail War? Is it here?”

“No it is in Trifas, Romania. I advise we head there immediately,” Assassin said, mind already filled with possible strategies against the enemies they would face.

Ritsuka gave him a blank look, “Is Romania in America?”

Assassin stared at the ceiling seemingly in question. It was to be expected he supposed. He was not focused on the surrounding world when he was a child. “No, Romania is a country located in Europe.”

“But that’s so far away, we’ll have to... We will have to take a plane, and we don’t have any money.” She froze, and looked around the room. Her gaze landed on the cowering form of Hyouma Sagara. She was not aware at the time, but her eyes seemed to become golden voids, not a hint of warmth or compassion to be found in them, “Ah Mr. Skeleton, I found a solution to our money problem.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3:00 A.M

Assassin had figured out why he had been summoned.

It was a test from Allah. That was the only explanation, as to why he was contracted to such a child.

Said child was currently ignoring the hostess, and pressing her face against the glass, and chanting “So Cool.” Over and over and over again.

It had been a pain to board the damnable metal contraption in the first case. He was the founder of the Old Man on the Mountain. He had killed pagan gods, demons, and djinn alike. It had still taken thirty minutes to board the flight. He leaned back into a leather seat, and held up a tanned wrinkly hand. He did not like the idea of using this disguise so early, but needs must. His cane, along with the rest of their funds were in the overhead compartment leaving him painfully visible and trapped in this metal contraption for ten hours. For once he was glad that he didn’t have a leg. It kept people from talking to him.

“Sir, could you please tell your grandchild to be silent?” Correction, it had kept people from talking to him.

From under his cloak, he stared at the stewardess. She stared back at him without flinching. Oh, that’s right she had to work on these things for a living.

“I’ll try my best,” Hassan said. He turned to Ritsuka, “Child, stop.” Ritsuka didn’t hear him or didn’t care, and continued her gushing. He turned back to the Stewardess, “I tried.”

She wasn’t satisfied by the answer but walked off all the same. He closed his eyes, and pressed further back into the leather seat. He ignored his bones slight creaking, and focused on the conversations around him.

“Did you hear?”

“No, I’ve crossed three time zones, how would I hear any news?” These were the two stewardesses at the back of the plane.

“Apparently at one of those fancy highrises, A window was smashed open. Somebody saw, a person being held upside down out of it.”

“And here I thought I was sleep-deprived.”

 

“It’s true.”

Hassan glanced at his contractor who was frozen in fear. “Contractor, when you stole treats, did you act this suspicious?”

She glared at him, “Why do you think I stole sweets as a child?”

Undaunted, he raised one eyebrow. Ritsuka turned to the side in guilt.

“Do not worry, child. I am the founder of the Hashashin. There are no links to us.” Assassin said. It wasn’t a boast. A boast implied pride, and he had lost all pride in the group he had founded.

Assassin suddenly found himself face to face with the nine year old's face. She had stars in her eyes, “Does that mean you’re a ninja!”

She opened her mouth to continue, but Assassin held a hand up to her mouth to stop her gushing.

He opened up the Master-Servant connection. Best to teach it to her now rather than, when a servant was about to kill her.

‘Contractor, it would be in thine best interests to not alert the occupants of this contraption to mine own nature..’

The high pitched squeal that erupted beneath his hand could’ve woken the dead.

‘You’re a telepathic ninja!’

‘I am not a ninja. I am an assassin. There is a difference.’ He waited for a second. ‘I am going to remove thine hand from thy person. Remain silent if you value your head.

He slowly retracted his hand, and Ritsuka made no further sounds. They lapsed into a strained silence. Assassin content to close his eyes, while Ritsuka stared at the stars outside.

‘Hey, are you angry at me?’ Ritsuka asked Assassin through the bond.

‘Child, we are going to war, do you understand this?’

‘Yes.’ The response was so quiet he wondered if he had misheard it.

‘I understand you are a child, but people are going to try and murder you. I would like it if you were more serious.’

‘You’re the strongest, right?’ Assassin looked at Ritsuka, and ignored the sheer trust in those eyes,

He nodded, “I am indeed, the strongest.”

Ritsuka shrugged, “Then, it’s okay,” It was the answer of a child, and Hassan wondered why he had expected anything else.

He did not smile often, but he still felt one forming on his face, for once he didn’t feel like stopping it, “I apologize Contractor, is there anything you want to talk about?”

Ritsuka’s smile could’ve lit up an eclipse.

And Assassin, listened to her for the rest of the flight.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hassan-I-Sabbah cut an imposing figure, the seven-foot-tall assassin was enveloped in a cloak that seemed to devour all light. The exception being the blue wisps of flame that drifted up from his chest plate, and the two orbs of blue fire in the eye sockets of the horned skull he wore. He embodied the concept of a "Bringer of Death."

"Hahahaha," Ritsuka Fujimaru's giggles turned into full-blown laughter. The nine-year-old girl had tried her hardest, she really had, but...but. Her whole body shook with the force of her laughter and to muffle it she had to bury her head into a pillow.

Assassin, curled up into a ball so his horns didn't pierce the ceiling, stared at his contractor. He wondered if all children of this age were so indolent, or his master was just a special case. His "eyes" briefly glowed red, "Wouldst thou like to bear thy head?"

"Ack," Ritsuka's coughed before she shook her head side to side. "Gramps, I'm sorry it's just. You are so usually big and scary, but you have too crouch to fit, and it's just... silly," she said. She waited for a moment for Gramps to respond. She sat up on the cot, "Gramp-"

"Why didst thou call me that?" Assassin cut her off, staring intently into Ritsuka's amber-colored eyes. At that moment, whether by fate or providence, the moonlight streamed through a window. His master was bathed in its ethereal light. It was strange, but his master seemed to be almost majestic with her eyes closed and her fist under her chin. Her form was that of an ancient scholar, and despite himself, some small part of Hassan wished to hear this child's wisdom.

"It's because you sound old!" Ritsuka said, snapping her fingers as the answer suddenly dawned on her. The lights went out on Assassin's skull, and his head fell forward. Ritsuka may have been nine years old, but she could feel the disappointment. "It's not only that you sound old, but when we were on the flight. Everybody thought I was your grandchild, and you were really kind, and I always wanted a grand-” She cut off, and turned to the side.

Assassin stared at the child for a moment. He was never good with children. Images of Serenity sprung to his mind. He shook his head, there was no equivalence between his childlike master and that failure of an "Old Man of The Mountain," he eyed his master who almost seemed to be swallowed by the pale cot. There was no blanket. The thought struck Assassin like a lightning bolt, and a plan a rather ingenious one if he thought so himself.

Ritsuka tried her best to focus on her red hair, and not on how uncomfortable the cot was. Or how her vision was blurry. She heard Gramps-no Assassin-stand up. She didn't feel like turning around and showing him what a crybaby she was. She heard a slight tearing noise and froze when the rickety wall was replaced by a void.

The russet-haired girl hesitantly reached out and touched the black cloth covering her. It was so soft, and it was so warm. She bunched the fabric in her fingers and brought it down to her chest. Ritsuka turned around and saw Assassin's armored back. She glanced down at the cloak covering her, and back to her servant. Had he? He had!

Assassin's deep voice filled the room, "You may call this wraith squirming in the darkness whatever you wish. Go to sleep contractor and have no fear, I will return in the morn," having said his piece, he turned into spirit form.

Ritsuka stared at the spot where her Servant had disappeared into the night, "Of course you will because Gramps is the strongest," she said, before closing her eyes.

Assassin of Black watched as his master's breathing evened out, signaling her slumber. He stared at her for a second longer, before exiting into Trifas' night sky to wage war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There is a reason why Ritsuka isn’t linking up with the Black Faction right now. I will explain that later in-story. Feel free to ask questions.


	3. 1.3

**Contract 1.3**

Hassan-I-Sabbah, stared down at the city of Trifas from the belfry. It was a place out of a history book. Then again so was his order. The roads were paved with cobblestones, and the buildings were built with brick & mortar. It didn’t resemble the cities of his homeland, but Hassan appreciated the archaic city all the more.

It made finding his targets all the more easier. The buildings weren’t the concrete monstrosities he had seen in Shinjuku, instead the tallest building was the town's belltower, which offered the best vantage point in the city. Something that other servants had already taken notice of.

Assassin eyed the hawk positioned on the right corner of the belfry, and then looked to the left, and saw a dove eating seeds. He didn’t fear detection even if he hadn’t been using the Presence Concealment skill. In life he had evaded detection from far more scrutinizing gazes.

Still, his eyes drifted back to the dove. The hawk was obviously a familiar, likely made by a Servant Caster judging by the quality of it, but there were hints to it’s magical nature. The way the birds head moved was too robotic. It helped that one of his successors had taken up the training of birds. If only he had spent more time training perhaps he wouldn’t been such a failure.

He focused on the dove and walked over to it. His metal greaves not even making a sound. The dove continued eating, unaware of the bringer of death standing right behind it. It’s movements were perfectly natural. There was no overt signs of Magical Nature. It appeared to be just a normal dove.

A dove that was perfectly content to eat, when a natural predator like a hawk was sitting right next to it.

Assassin felt a feeling of unease start to form in his stomach. He looked down at one of the buildings below, He saw another dove on a roof, walked further back into the belfry, and found a stone. He waited for a minute before the wind picked up and the bell made a slight clang. He kicked the stone, and watched it go over the edge. It was a perfect arc, the stone tumbled through the air before impacting right next to the oblivious dove.

The natural response would’ve been to fly away as quickly as possible. The fight or flight instinct taking control of it’s body so it would continue to survive.

The dove did none of those things. It paused for a moment, and craned its head toward the Belltower, before taking off.

This complicated things. Assassin thought back to all the doves the child had pointed out to him while they were searching for a place to stay. It had been the right decision to have the child cover her hands. Still with this new information, he resolved to move the child around the city more often.

This information was a boon however, there were few Heroic Spirits that could commune with animals, and his knowledge of this connection would allow for many opportunities in the war to come.

The dove on the belltower took off. One such opportunity being the usage of the enemies spy network.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A tomb, out of all the places in Trifas, an enemy servant was most likely located in a tomb. Assassin swore to never tell his contractor. Allah only knew how amusing she would find it, and how he would be forced to listen to each and every one of her jokes.

In spirit form he was able to clearly see the bounded field set up by the exit. It wasn’t advanced, if he set it off, it would merely alert the magus who had set it up, and nothing more. Assassin felt his respect toward his foe rise. Most magi were beings of boundless arrogance, and fond of ostentatious displays.

The tomb was a sprawling complex that had multiple entrances and exits. Unlike a building it would be hard to destroy and kill the magus inside of it. It was a place that did not suit the regular tastes of magi, and no-one would expect it to be a hiding place of a servant and master.

Assassin made sure there were no familiars in sight before materializing. He quickly activated Presence Concealment becoming invisible to the eyes of the world. He passed over the bounded field without hesitation. It didn’t react, and why would it? Nothing had passed through it after all.

Assassin sped through the catacombs taking note of the various electronic devices that watched every corridor, and barely spared a thought to avoiding the tripwires. He paused for a moment. He could clearly feel the presence of an enemy servant.

“Are you serious, master?! Why are we staying in this dirty tomb?” The whiny high-pitched voice helped as well.

Assassin turned the corner, and stared. It was a crypt. Bodies lined the walls. Tombstones and caskets dotted the muddy earth. The important thing was the two people in it.

The Servant, was rolling on the ground. She had fair skin, and her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail. She was also indecent, he had seen prostitutes with less revealing clothing. The blue shorts she was wearing didn’t even go to her knees, and he refused to believe that white piece of fabric that only covered her chest and exposed her midriff could be considered clothing.

Still she was a servant, and would be treated as the threat she was. He turned his attention to the Master, careful to not see him as a target. This was simply information gathering, and the nature of this tomb would likely help mask the feeling of impending death if he decided to take their heads.

“Are you a child?” The servant’s master asked, with an incredulous tone. He was a large man with scars that marred a roguish face. Black sunglasses kept Assassin from seeing his eyes, but Hassan suspected the eyes to be that of a killer. Rolling blonde hair went all the way to his back, and despite his apparent bulk. Assassin could tell that the black jacket the man was wearing was made from the skins of magical animals. A leather belt stood out on the otherwise black clad man, it held multiple holsters likely for weapons.

The master jerked back as his servant got into his face, “How do you expect me to be satisfied sitting here, while a war is going on? A war that I could be fighting in.”

The man rubbed his face, in apparent exasperation, and Assassin remembered his dealing with his own contractor. He ignored the slight sympathy he felt toward the man. “Were those golems not enough for you, Saber?”

The newly revealed Saber of the Red smirked, electric blue eyes seeming to shine, “As if I’d be satisfied with those muddy pieces of crap.”

Her master went back to sharpening a knife, “Well they’ll have to do. I want to prep my weapons. The Hydra venom is almost ready.”

A Hydra, This Master possessed Hydra Venom. He had never slayed one personally, but he remembered Serenity spending a fortune for a small flask, in the hopes of refining her poison craft. She was never able to come close, and that made this master all the more dangerous. Yes, if no other target presented itself. This Master would be the first to --

One of the devices near the man warbled, and started scribbling something out. It finished, and he took the piece of paper.

“Berserker’s headed to Yggdmillennia castle?” He questioned, staring at the sheet of paper.

Saber leaned in and looked at it as well, “All alone?” She grinned at her master who made a face.

Assassin had already left.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Assassin went as fast as his B ranked Agility allowed him to. It almost seemed to good to be true. A lone servant striking into enemy territory, such a scenario would likely end in a servant’s death.

The blue wisps of flames that served as his eyes flashed red. It would also allow him to observe the Servants of the Black team. He had purposefully kept quiet about the team they were on. The only reason he had stayed his blade from that blonde fool was that it would upset his contractor. If that man was allied with the rest of the Black’s teams masters. The Hassan amongst Hassan saw no reason to ally with such filth.

The sound of a tree crashing to the Earth broke Assassin out of his thoughts. He landed on the ground, and looked forward.

‘What a monstrous fool,’ Assassin thought staring at the Berserker. The servant was as tall as Assassin was, but that was where the similarities ended. He only wore a loincloth, the rest of his body was exposed to the world. Assassin hesitated to call it exposed. The servant’s skin was a mass of scars, The dead flesh making it seem like Berserker was grey. Assassin could see the muscles rippling under the Servant’s flesh with each move he made.

“DEATH TO THE OPPRESSORS!” Berserker roared, before smashing through a tree in his path.

“Berserker stop! Return to base,” A female voice called out, and Assassin under Presence Concealment looked at the two servants standing on a tree branch.

“I MUST FREE THE OPPRESSED!” Berserker shouted, not even turning back before he smashed through another tree. He was doomed, unless the Black Team was made up of degenerates, which was always a possibility.

“I don’t think he heard you, big sis,” One of the new servants said. Blonde spiky hair jutted out from a tanned face. Golden yellow eyes that reminded Assassin of a hawk’s were completely focused on the servant beside him.

“Don’t call me sister, idiot,” The female servant said. The first thing Assassin noticed about her were the large cat ears flicking back and forth on top of her head. Her hair was long and unkempt. The hair on her forehead was verdant green but going back all the way down to her back, and turned into a brown-golden color the further it was from the crown of her head. She was wearing a green dress, and black stockings.

Assassin felt a chill run down his spine, despite her beastlike nature, he could imagine the reaction of his contractor if she saw this servant. It would... complicate things.

Still this confirmed his suspicions. The Red Team wasn’t united. One Master and Servant pair sitting out while three other servants of the same team acted. The other possibility was that Saber's Master had formed a splinter faction, and was plotting against his teammates. Either way, Assassin had knowledge that the strongest of the three knight classes was currently isolated, and and would not be receiving much support.

His blade manifested in his hand. It seemed he would be claiming a head tonight.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sisigou Kairi, Master of Saber Red, slowly lifted the throwing knife out of the hydra venom. He wasn’t an expert at reinforcement, but this knife would likely pierce any barrier a mage would have time to throw up. He glanced to where his Servant was. Saber, after she finished pouting was content to read some of the Shonen Manga, that girl had loved so much.

He frowned, this was definitely not the time for thoughts like that. All that mattered was winning the grail. It was bad enough already that he couldn’t count on the rest of the Red Team. He was not going to be melancholy in a situation like this.

He put the throwing knife in its sheathe, and he put away the Hydra Venom. He pulled out another one, and started to reinforce it.

He was going to die.

The throwing knife tumbled out of his cold and frozen hands.

His mouth worked uselessly trying to say anything, and he felt beads of sweat form on his forehead.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. His heart stopped. The crypt was shrouded in darkness.

He was going to die, it was a fact. The presence in the room screamed this fact at him.

No, it wasn’t a presence, it was a figure. His eyes seemed to drag the rest of his body to face this being who was going to kill him. He forgot about his Command Seals,reason had left him in the face of his encroaching death.

He stared at Death’s Skull as the Greatsword descended.


	4. Contract 1.4

**Contract 1.4**

The tomb exploded, tons of rock and sediment flew up into the night sky as two servants fought in mid-air.

Assassin twisted sideways, and spun bringing his greatsword down on Saber’s head. The now armoured knight blocked the blow, but was sent rocketing to the ground, forming a crater upon impact.

Assassin landed on the ground, and held his blade with one hand, and waited for Saber’s inevitable attack.

“You bastard, what do you think you're trying to pull?” Saber snarled at him from beneath her horned helmet as the dust from the crater cleared

Assassin said nothing and spread his legs out evenly, and with one hand held his sword out horizontally.

“Tch,” Saber muttered, before her greaves crackled with red energy. She took a step forward, and with a burst of speed and mana Saber was suddenly inches away from Assassin, her blade swinging down at his head with enough force to bisect him from head to toe.

He shifted his greatsword and matched the blow with his own strike. Arm not even straining as he shoved the sword back. Saber, instead of losing her balance, used the force of his own strike to bring her sword around to hack at his left side.

“Got you!” Saber exclaimed before her arms, burned with mana, and what should’ve been an easily blocked blow turned into a devastating strike that sent him backwards, His feet carving a furrow in the earth in the process. More importantly, the blow had forced him to shift his grip, leaving him painfully exposed.

A fact that Saber instantly capitalized, she hurtled towards him once again using mana burst.

It was shameful, first failing to claim that man’s head, and now being forced into this position. He grasped his sword with both hands, and met her upward strike with a downward strike. This time Saber was sent back, the shock wave from the blow uprooting the trees.

He went on the offensive, and met each of Saber’s blows with one of his own. A single stab from her would turn into myriad of feints and counterattacks, as Saber furiously fought to retake the initiative. A rhythm was established, as they fought in the clearing, but more importantly he had figured out her style. Saber was without a doubt a swordsman of great skill, but her technique was unrefined. In life, she had likely relied on a mixture of determination, and brute force to win against opponents. Perhaps if he was a weaker servant, it would’ve worked, but he was not, and it was for that reason why he was going to win this fight.

He leveraged his greater height and slashed at her legs, and Saber jumped back giving up on her own attempt to stab his stomach. Her jump put her directly behind, the hole in the Earth that had formed that had once covered the crypt.

Assassin’s eyes grew in intensity, it was time to end this.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This bastard was worse than that gorilla, Gawain. At least he had to parry, it wasn’t like that with this servant. It was a style of Pure aggression, every block somehow turned into an attack, and every attack turned into a block. The only thing she could’ve compared it too was her father's sword style except even his sword style was a perfect mixture of elegance, and practicality.

Mordred grit her teeth as the Servant approached her, well aware of the fact her master was behind her, and that she couldn’t leap backward. Beneath her helmet she grinned savagely, they were now facing away from the city which allowed her to use her Noble Phantasm without harming her soon to be subjects.

“Saber, it is time to end this,” The servant spoke, his voice a deep baritone.

Mordred laughed, “Ah, so the coward speaks after all.”

“Do not mistake mine own strike against thine master, as a craven act,” He lifted that monster of a greatsword up. “It was an act of expediency. I bear the title of Assassin, and while I have enjoyed matching blades with you, this is a war.” The wisps of blue flame, flashed red, “Bear thine head.” He burst forward.

Not yet, she had to wait until she could feel the sword coming down on her. Her helm disappeared, and Clarent glowed an ominous red. He couldn’t back down, not now. This fight would be decided on who was faster. Assassin’s sword or Mordred’s Noble Phantasm.

 **“** Clarent **,”** She yelled bringing her sword up, and despite the fact his sword was inches away from decapitating her.

She levelled the blood-red sword, at his armored chest, **“Blood,”** She felt the sword touch a hair on her neck.

**“AR-”**

“DIE OPPRESSOR!” The shout cut Mordred off, as a grey giant suddenly barreled into Assassin, tearing his sword from it’s place on her neck, and leaving Mordred standing there with a glowing red sword.

 _‘Saber, get me out of here,’_ her eyes snapped to the ruined crypt, where her master was. She quickly deactivated her Noble Phantasm, and her armor materialized again concealing her identity, and she jumped down into the crypt grabbed him. He had a gash on his forehead, and his glasses were ruined. She jumped out of the ruined crypt, and set him down by a tree.

“Saber, where are you going?” He groaned clutching his head.

“To kill this bastard, of course.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Assassin liked to think he was a man of few tempers. However, in the face of his repeated failings to claim his opponent's heads, he found his patience running thin.

“Death to the oppressor!” Berserker roared, swinging his gladius down. Assassin turned to the side, and lopped off his opponent's legs leaving him squirming on the ground. Assassin resolved to deal with him later, no doubt Saber was already heading toward him at this moment.

There was a large stomp, and Assassin calmly turned around, and blocked Berserker’s sword strike. He looked into Berserker’s eyes, and saw endless hate.

“That won’t stop me, OPPRESSOR!” Berserker roared, and with his regrown legs attempted to kick, Assassin.

Not even hesitating Assassin shoved away Berserker’s sword, and shifted slightly to avoid Berserker’s kick. He stabbed Berserker’s chest, and the servant slumped forward.

He doubted the Valley of Death’s curse had happened, most likely he had just destroyed the Servants spiritual core. He made to pull his sword out, and stared when it didn’t budge

Berserker’s right hand suddenly grasped the gauntlet that was holding the sword. He tugged it forward impaling himself further, and began laughing, “Ah this is a good pain!” His other arm encircled Assassin, and despite his struggles brought him into a crushing bear hug.

Damn this mindless fool, mana supply or no. He would- Assassin eyes focused on the swiftly approaching form of Saber, her blade ready to impale Berserker, and by proxy himself.

Seeming to sense the danger, Berserker spun around, and threw Assassin, at the approaching servant. Assassin was barely able to drag his sword out the mad dog before he was sent hurtling back into the clearing.

He landed on the ground, and planted his sword in the dirt, before rising up. He ignored Saber’s master scrambling away. It made little difference at this point.

Berserker soon came charging out of the forest, but in place of the chest wound, Assassin had inflicted on him, an arm with a mouth and tongue writhed in it’s place. Assassin hefted his blade up, and prepared to meet his foe again, only to blink when Berserker fell to the ground once again missing his legs, and Saber charged forward to meet him

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is fucking insane.” Sisigou Kairi muttered, as he ran. Every time he had thought he’d gotten far away enough, it seemed another explosion of noise reached his ears. He shook his head, and came to a stop. He rummaged around in his belt, and found what he was looking for.

He made to bring the cigarette to his lips, but the cigarette tumbled out of his shaking hands. “Dammit.” He muttered before gripping his palm so tightly blood ran out of it. It had started with a feeling of malevolence. He had blown it off, because graveyards often carried those feelings, but then it had intensified, but by then it had been too late to react. Kairi had known that somebody was hunting him, and that he was going to die. His heart had skipped a beat, in the end. It was Saber who saved him. From what he could gather she had sensed something was wrong, and followed his eyesight to spot his attacker. Still even with prana burst she had barely deflected the blow, and there base of operations was now destroyed.

He ran his bloody hand through his hair, before shaking his head. He had to get his head, back in the game. Closing his eyes, he opened the Master-Servant Bond and saw what Saber was seeing. Only to immediately close it as the fast pace made him sick to his stomach. He shook his head, took a deep breathe, and tried it again.

It was the most terrible thing he had ever seen. The three servants outright aiming to kill each other. He saw Mordred leap onto Berserker’s head only to cave it in when she used him as a springboard to attack Assassin, who at this speed was little but a blur, Her blade met his, and suddenly she was on the defensive, as that servant smashed her sword, aside and pushed his servant back with a flurry of lethal sword strikes, smashing the environment around them.

Eventually they came to a stop, and Sisigou was able to take a good look at the Servant who had almost killed him. Skulls, that was the first thing he noticed about the Servant. It had skulls inscribed everywhere on it’s obsidian armor. Two animal skulls served as shoulder pauldrons, a small human one was embedded in his chest plate, and emitted wisps of eerie blue light. That seemed to intermingle with the wisps of shadows that surrounded the Servant. His armor was entirely black, and spikes jutted out from the shoulders. His feet were claws, and black talons instead of fingers gripped a broadsword that was taller than Kairi was. In place of the head, there was a horned skull with eye sockets that burned with blue fire.

He chuckled, if the servant hadn’t terrified him in a way that not even Dead Apostles had before, he would’ve scoffed at such an appearance, but he would likely be seeing this servant in his nightmares for the rest of his days... Which probably wouldn’t be that long all things considered. Kairi shook his head and decided to check Assassin’s stats, his mouth fell open, “That’s an Assassin?” If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought he was looking at one of the Knight Classes, the only stats that weren’t As and Bs were Luck and Mana which were as low as they could possibly be, but despite that, he wondered if he was looking at the most dangerous servant of the opposing team.

He fell to the side, as the ground quaked, and his mouth fell open at what Saber was seeing. Kairi briefly remembered what Berserker looked like, and he could barely believe the monstrosity before him was the same servant.

In place of a human being, Berserker was now a multi-limbed monstrosity. On multiple arms, he crashed through the forest, towards the two servants. Tumors swelled all over his body, some with arms, some with legs, and others with razor sharp teeth. Despite Saber seeing it, she didn’t move and neither did Assassin.

It was only when Berserker landed on top of them that the two servants reacted. Mordred and Assassin dashed toward each other. Mordred was content to dart through the forest of limbs, but not Assassin. Kairi saw the Servant wade through the limbs a flash of silver, and limbs falling off the only indication he had attacked.

_‘You know Berserker, is technically our ally, right?’_

Saber answered instantly, ‘Then he shouldn’t have butt into my fight,’ As if to punctuate that statement, she snarled and lashed out with her blade at one of Berserker’s legs, catching him in the thigh. With a bit of effort, Clarent sheared through the swollen limb with no issue, causing the mad Servant to lose his balance and topple over. Even though the twisted form of Berserker was bearing down on him, Assassin still had no issues fending off Mordred. The fact aggravating the Servant of the Sword enough that Kairi could almost hear blood vessels popping.

Right, this was going nowhere, ‘My king, I’m going to get to a safe distance. Try to get as far away from the city if you can. Use your noble phantasm.’ The image of Assassin, popped into his mind. ‘I’m being serious Saber, if you feel the need for me to enhance it with my Command Seals tell me.’

‘Yes, Master,’ His servant muttered, and he resolved to get her whatever she wanted after this. She deserved that much at least.

He reinforced his limbs and began to run away, only to freeze as he heard the sound of a horse approaching.

“Ho friend, are you the Master of Saber?”

Kairi stared, at the servant upon the horse. His brown hair was slicked back, and he had a slight mustache that looked out of place with the finely grown beard. He was wearing a green jacket, that was connected into a large brown cloak. He was wearing a red cravat as well, but the most unnerving thing about this servant wasn’t his wide smile. It was his eyes, those golden eyes were that of a madman.

The Servant held up his hands, obviously sensing Kairi’s unease. “I mean no harm, I am Caster of the Red Team and in fact I am in the throes of bliss, for you see” He gestured to the stallion beneath him, “I have a horse.”

Kairi didn’t know how to respond to that. He eventually decided on the tried and true tactic of nodding his head and grunting.

“Ignore this idiot, Sisigou,” A cold but regal voice said from the shadows. Kairi had no problem identifying this Servant. The Assassin of Red in all of her black finery walked towards them. She was frowning as if Kairi and the other Servant had insulted her just by existing.

Caster clutched his chest, “Ah, your words pierce my heart far worse than any blade has ever done, O Queen!”

Kairi sensing that if this continued he’d be caught in the middle of another battle between servants spoke up, “What are you doing here?”

Assassin of Red inspected her nails, “My master was concerned with your safety, and sent me here to make sure no harm befell you.”

Kairi’s mouth worked without thinking, “Your a far sight prettier than your counterpart on the Black Team.” He said, only for him to immediately regret saying it as Assassin’s eyes narrowed at him, “What I mean by that is I’m grateful, but why is he here?” He pointed at Caster

Assassin of Red opened her mouth to respond only to be cut off by Caster who was gazing to the Heavens

“The Gates of Monarchs are Arch’d so high that Giants may jet through and keep their impious turbans on without regards to the Sun,” He shouted, before spurring his horse onwards to the fight

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This night had not played out the way Assassin had seen it. He jumped back as a gargantuan leg slammed down where he been barely a second ago. He lunged forward, and sliced it off, while at the same time meeting Sabers lunge. Sparks flew off each of their blades as they pushed against one another. They both jumped back as two new limbs suddenly burst out from the wound.

The Servant of the Sword had been relentless in her attacks, often making lunges that would’ve been suicidal were it not for Berserker’s chaotic attacks. In fact, they had stopped treating Berserker as a foe to be killed long ago, and had started to use the monstrous servant as an environment in which to fight.

He watched as Saber of the Red backpedal away from Berserker’s attacks leading him farther into the woods. She was likely preparing to use her Noble Phantasm. He would tread lightly, but he was confident he could kill both servants without using his Noble Phantasm, or any of his more mana-intensive techniques.

“I WILL FREE ALL OF THE OPPRESSED,” Berserker’s enlarged head bellowed, before charging at Assassin.

It was time to claim a servant’s head. He grasped his greatsword and held it directly in front of him, he could see it. He would jump out of the way, and decapitate Berserker. The Mad servant had stopped him from slaying Saber long enough.

There was a flash of red, and Berserker was gone. A command seal? But why, he was sure that a command seal had been used to cause Berserker to attack him. That would mean Berserker's Master had already used two command seals.

He shook his head, Saber was still here.

“Finally we can finish this properly Assassin,” She said, leveling her blade at him. Well at least he knew that Saber wouldn’t run away.

“I’m afraid not,” said, a male voice. Assassin’s head snapped up just in time for a second sun to ignite in the sky above. The light illuminated the whole forest, and he could feel the shadows that normally cloaked him be burned away. He was undaunted, and stared at the center of the conflagration

Blue eyes that seemed to peer right through him met his gaze. White hair waved in the wand despite the firestorm. The servant’s chest was exposed save for golden spokes surrounding a red stone that seemed to shine as bright as the sun. The rest of the Servant’s torso was covered by a black bodysuit that seemed to change into golden armor when it reached his lower body. Two golden chakrams hung over his shoulders and seemed to keep a red cape in place. Assassin focused on the servant’s weapon. A golden lance that had the symbol of the sun in the lower end.

Assassin didn’t care at all, about the Servant’s appearance, he didn’t care that this amount of power dwarfed anything he had felt previously in this war. All he cared about was that he recognized this power, and detested it.

It seemed he would be have to be using some of his more prana-intensive abilities. He muttered an apology to his contracter.

He leveled his greatsword, at the servant, “Pagan Mongrel, Hand over thy head!”

The wretch smiled, as if his blasphemous existence was amusing. “I promise you that no matter how detestable you find me, I assure you, I find you far more disturbing, miserable lich.” Finished talking, he twirled his spear over his head, and then brought it down. The flames of a Sun God rushed down to incinerate the Earth.

Assassin swung his own sword, and the Blue Flames of Gehenna, for the first time in a millennia, rushed forward to meet the white flames of a pagan warrior.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ritsuka Fujimaru jerked awake in her bed. Her circuits on fire, she gasped, and looked out the window. The forest seemed to be shining, bright flashes briefly lighting it up. She stared at the cloak Gramps had left her, and remembered his words. He had promised her he would be back in the morning, but... She chewed on her bottom lip, and stared at the cloak, and then at the window. She grabbed the cloak and with it trailing behind her left the room.

**End Contract 1.4**


	5. Contract 1.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept you waiting, huh?

Assassin leapt toward the enemy servant even as the two divine flames warred against each other. He jettisoned through the firestorm, not even flinching as flames that could incinerate the world lapped at his armor.

 

Lancer met him without fear, golden spear thrusting downward at Assassin’s head. Assassin stepped, the Flames of Gehenna shrouding him as he dodged the strike, and with greatsword held downward, fell like a comet onto Lancer’s unprotected neck.

 

Lancer spun, his spear coming up in an instinctual movement that ended up saving his life even as Assassin’s blade smashed into the spear’s haft. With all the fury of an angry god, Assassin’s blade swung out, blue flames leaping from both it and its wielder, and clashing against Lancer and his orange flames. They hurtled towards the ground, Assassin pressing down hoping to impale Lancer, but just as they were about hit the ground, Lancer flew away in a burst of flames.

 

Assassin crashed into the ground, letting the blue corona surrounding him dissipate, before pulling his greatsword out from the charred earth. Lancer was apparently content to watch him for now.

 

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING LANCER!” Saber roared, and were he a lesser heroic spirit, Assassin would have rolled his eyes. Did all Heroic Spirits like the sound of their voices so much or was he just quiet?

 

“I apologize, Saber. Would you have felt better had I let him kill you?” Lancer replied. No, it seemed he was just quiet.

 

She leveled her broadsword at Assassin. “He’s my opponent, and he attacked my master. My honour demands that I be the one to kill him.”

 

Lancer stared at her with his piercing blue eyes. “Did you always use things like honour to disguise your bloodlust?”

 

“Enough of this,” Assassin held his greatsword out at Lancer, eyes flashing red, “Where is it then, thy head?” He growled.

 

Lancer was consumed by a pillar of blue fire. Assassin charged and swept his greatsword up. Lancer blocked it with the longer part of his spear and was left unprotected, as slashes of blue fire struck him in multiple places. Undeterred, he thrust his spear forward, and Assassin dodged backwards only for a stream of fire to consume him, and smash him against a stone.

 

The flames were that of the sun. Already, a rock that was likely hundreds of years old was melting beneath him. Assassin barely felt them. He stepped forward.

 

The flames intensified, and Assassin ignored the remains of his cloak burning off. He was Allah’s envoy of death upon creation, and he would not be deterred. He continued to walk forward even as the stream of flames turned into river of fire, and then into an ocean. Assassin’s clawed hand stretched out, and he grasped the haft of Lancer’s spear. Taking no small amount of satisfaction at Lancers eyes widening, he raised his greatsword.

 

Lancer smiled, tearing his lance free from Assassin’s grip and with the tip of the spear, turned Assassin’s attack to the side.

 

Lancer vanished in a burst of flames, and Assassin turned around just in time to deflect a blow that would’ve impaled him. He was pushed back. There were no openings he could exploit. No weaknesses he could use, it was purely a contest of skill between two heroic spirits.

 

A third combatant entered the fray, Saber’s broadsword flew at Lancer’s forehead forcing him to jump back, though the sword returned to her hand without any outside interference. Assassin moved to exploit the opening, blue flames shrouding his form. Saber interrupted him by throwing her sword at him, forcing him to bat it away.

 

The sword flew back to her hand, and Assassin and Lancer both glared at her. Assassin could imagine the cocky smile she was wearing beneath her helmet, “Did you expect me to accept being-” She tilted her head, “What the?!”

 

Assassin’s instincts screamed at him. He heard a shrieking sound and turned to the source. He summoned his tower shield just in time for a Divine Chariot to slam into it. The next few seconds happened very quickly. His shield smashed back into him, and Assassin felt his arm snap as the force traveled through his body. He angled his body as best as he could, and went over the horses, instead of under their hooves. The world spun multiple times as he ragdolled through the sky until falling back to earth.

 

Assassin shakily stood up, his skull ringing, and looked at the newcomer. The male heroic spirit he saw tailing Berserker smirked at him, which meant… He glanced to the side, and the approaching arrow was gone in a flash of blue fire. The Archer was here too, wonderful.

 

The Rider of Red jumped off of the chariot, his ornate metal greaves making an audible thud when he hit the ground. His golden eyes narrowed as he observed Assassin. “Really, I passed up an opportunity to fight two heroic spirits, for just one servant? That Saber looked like a decent challenge.”

 

“Well this Saber, is wondering why the hell all of these servants are interrupting her fight,” Saber growled, and Assassin briefly wondered if her teeth had been ground into dust at this point.

 

Rider’s head, snapped to the side. “You’re a woman,” He ran one glove through his hair. “Fair maiden, won’t you grace my sight with your surely beautiful form.”

 

“Call me that again and see what happens!”

 

Rider chuckled, and he held out his hand. There was a flash of light, and he grasped a black spear. He made a show of twirling it around, before pointing it at Assassin. His handsome features turning feral, “The Gods of Olympus surely frown on upon you. You find yourselves facing four heroic spirits all alone.”

 

Assassin let his ruined left arm slump to his side, but leveled his sword at Rider, “Art thou finished? I am truly blessed this night, as I might collect four heads.” He intoned. In response, a dozen arrows flew from the treeline. His eyes glowed red, and they similarly burst into flames. “Reveal thine self, Archer.

 

There was no response, but he had already calculated the trajectory of the arrows. There at the top of the treetop. The cat-eared Archer had already cocked back another arrow.

 

 _‘NEKO-CHAN!’_ His contractor shrieked through the Master-Servant bond.

 

The other servants chose that time to attack. A volley of arrows filled the night sky. Lancer launched towards Assassin in a burst of fire. Saber, never to be outdone, lunged at his right side with a burst of prana. Rider joined the fray, and hurled his spear at Assassin’s chest.

 

Assassin raised his greatsword, and plunged it into the ground. The ground erupted with blue fire, and under its cover, he leapt towards the treeline and turned into spirit form, _‘Gramps, are you okay? Why is everything on fire?'_

 

He ignored her second question, and instead focused on the important part. _‘I told thou to stay in thine room, that I would be back in the morn.’_ There was a long period of silence

 

_‘The forest was lighting up, so I decided to go explore it.’_

 

Assassin paused for a moment and materialized. He had forgotten how hard it was to take care of children. He froze. His very young contracter was in the forest. A forest that four enemy servants were now in. _‘Contracter, are you near anybody?’_

 

There was a period of silence, _‘Will you promise not to get mad?’_ Assassin restrained the urge to set the whole forest on fire, and instead, activated his Presence Concealment. He didn’t even bother threatening the enemy servants, he needed to find her and get out.

 

‘Yes, Contractor I promise not to be enraged by thine actions, now tell me if you are near anybody,’ He mentally replied.

 

 _‘Okay, I’m with my new friend.’_ She responded, like it was an everyday occurrence to make a friend in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the night, no less.

 

Assassin paused for a long moment _‘Sayeth again?’_

 

_‘My friend, I found him in the forest while I was lo-I mean exploring.’_

 

The tree he was on broke when he leapt off of it. He utilized all the speed he was able to, and the world around him became a blur, and miles were crossed in seconds. _‘Master, look up.’_

 

_‘Uh, sure.’_

 

He switched to her vision, and was greeted by the starry skies. Thank Allah, for small mercies during this test. He could find her, considering she could see Kesil.

 

‘Contractor, if your “friend”,’ he put all the loathing and irritation he could into that one word. ‘Makes, a move toward you say “By the power of the command seal, come to my side.”

 

‘Okay...but you’ll be here soon, right?’ He wished he could ignore the poorly concealed fear in her voice.

 

Kesil shone down on him, as he dropped Presence Concealment, and landed in front of his contractor. Her tiny legs shook, and he grabbed her before she fell down on his cloak. “Yes, I will.” He said, and he looked her over to see if she was unharmed, “Where is this friend?”

 

“Gramps, your arm!” She shrieked, and he looked down at it. His arm was still horribly mangled. The black plating had caved partially inward. He was actually bleeding, another sign he had been sloppy. He chided himself, he was going to have to be more careful with the limited supply of mana his contractor could provide.

 

“Never mind mine injuries, where is this friend?” His contractor opened her mouth to protest, but at the last second thought better of it, after taking another look at his arm. She hesitantly pointed to the right.

 

Assassin looked to where she was pointing. At the base of a large redwood tree sat a small homunculus. He once again resisted the urge to sigh, this was what he had been worried about? He turned back to his contractor. “Come, contractor, there is little time before the sun rises. We must begone.”

 

He observed the forest. There were neither doves nor familiars watching currently, but that could change at any moment. He paused and turned around, the child was not following him. ‘What was it now?’

 

His contractor gripped her tiny fist so tightly he was afraid they might bleed. “Gramps, I’m not leaving him.”

 

He rounded on her, shadows spiraling around him. “Contractor, enough of this foolishness! Every moment spent here allows the enemy to encroach closer upon us. You can't have known this creature but naught an hour. Come with me, and let us be done with this wretched day.”

 

Her chapped lips trembled a bit, and those golden eyes began to water. He stared at her for a second before he sighed, “Fine, he can come, but if he makes a move toward thou, I reserve the right to take his head.” Quickly turning away and ignoring his contractor’s smile, Assassin walked over to the artificial construct. Blank red eyes, looked up at him, “Come, construct, mine contractor wishes for thy presence.”

 

His contracter poked her head out from behind him. “See, I told you he was nice.” She held out her hand toward the homunculus, and Assassin saw something akin to life for the first time in those eyes. “Come on, let’s go home.”

 

A thin, bony hand, hesitantly grasped his contractor’s hand, and likely using all of her strength, she pulled him to his feet. She succeeded only to tumble backward forcing Assassin to catch her with his good arm.

 

He hefted her up with his good arm, and ignoring her sudden shrieking put her on his shoulder. He picked up his faithful cloak, and wove it around his contractor in a cocoon that held her in place. He was abruptly aware of how warm his contractor was, she was practically feverish. ‘Contractor?’ he asked, through the telepathic connection they shared, not even trying to hide his concern.

 

‘Like I said not that good of a magus.’ She replied through the bond guiltily, as if it was her fault for not meeting some unknown standard of a master.

 

‘It matters not, Contractor, I will be sure to strain you less in future battles.’ He paused and turned around. “Construct, why art thou not following us?” His contractor attempted to kick him, “Construct, what is thy name?”

 

The construct opened his mouth, and closed it. “I don’t have a name, and I don’t think I can walk any further.” Assassin was suddenly aware of how pale the Homunculus was, and how his clothes seemed to wear him, not the other way around. He ignored his contractor squirming in the cocoon, and walked toward the artificial construct. He would prevail in this test. He would.

 

He grabbed the boy’s white collar, and gently hefted him over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you pick out a name.” His contractor muttered, with a smile, to the construct. Assassin ignored her, and begin striding out of the forest, the sooner they were out of the forest the better.

 

“Hey Gramps, you were really awesome out there...All those meanies grouped on you, but you still beat them all.” Were he a more expressive person, he would’ve smiled. Four ancient heroes of great renown being called meanies.

 

“Of course, Contractor. Did you not say I was the strongest?” He said, trying not to jostle his contractor too much. Already her eyes were beginning to droop.

 

“Yep,” His master said, before yawning.

 

He walked in silence, and waited for the homunculus to fall asleep before he opened the Master-Servant connection, ‘Contracter, thou art still in a great deal of trouble.’

 

“But Gramps,” She whined, completely awake. And confirmed Assassin’s suspicions.

 

“No, but if thou wouldst like to avoid bearing thy head, thou shalt slumber now.” He said, as he saw the first light of civilization, from the forest.

 

He felt his contracter shift in the cocoon so she was facing the homunculus, and then back to him. “Gramps, you are really kind.”

 

He stopped for a moment. Never in his long existence had the Old Man of the Mountain been told he was kind.

 

End Contract 1.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Goodbye canon, nobody liked you to begin with. For those who are wondering, Kesil is the Hebrew word for the Orion constellation.


	6. Contract 1.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait

Mordred barrelled through the cold blue flames and the air shrieked as Clarent, enhanced by Mana Burst, carved towards Assassin’s position. She was not going to allow these other third-rate servants to kill Assassin, not after he’d tried to kill her master. Clarent cut through empty air, and barely missed the golden spear that would have stabbed Assassin’s heart, if he had still been there. Rider’s black spear similarly crashed into the forest floor.

 

Mordred stood and stared at the empty spot where she knew Assassin had been. The only sounds in the forest were from grass, and leaves being burned by those ghastly flames.

Clarent started shaking in Mordred’s grip, her honor as the heir to the King of Knights had been slandered. First, she had been unable to sense an attack on her master until it was almost too late. Then that stupid skeleton had the gall to hold back when fighting her, and then these servants had ruined everything by interfering.

 

She was vaguely aware of Rider walking up to her and Lancer. “What a letdown. My big sister and I come all the way over here expecting a fight, and then that servant turns out to be a cow-” Mordred spun on her heels, and brought Clarent down on his throat.

 

There was a loud clang as Clarent bounced off of Lancer’s spear. Mordred glared at Lancer who didn’t even look bothered by the amount of force she had put into that blow.

 

“You’re feisty too, I love that in a woman.” Rider said, and then had the gall to smile at Mordred. However, before she could cut his head off a new voice sounded throughout the clearing.

 

“Saber, that’s enough.” Her master said, and Saber stared at him in shock. Why was he here? After all the time she had given him to escape? Then her eyes spotted the Servant a few feet behind him.

 

Assassin of Red, clad in the finest silks of black and gold smiled at Saber, and glanced at Kairi. The message was clear, mother had looked at her enemies the same way.

 

She let her blade dissipate, and quickly moved to her master’s side, anger abandoned. It had been replaced with a rather new feeling that she didn’t really know what to make of, but she didn’t quite like it.

 

“Sorry, Saber, but you’ll have to beat these guys after we beat the Black team,” Her master said. Mordred looked him over. He had a gash on his right hand, but it looked self inflicted. Still she didn’t trust her master around these third-rate servants. Speaking of which.

 

“I would have made progress on that end, but these,” She turned her head to the side and looked at Rider and Lancer. “Idiots interfered before I could use my Noble Phantasm, and kill Assassin.”

 

Rider shrugged, still smiling at her, and Lancer just raised an eyebrow at her. Mordred huffed, her master was right. She could kill them after the Black Faction was dead. She started to walk away, and smiled when she saw her Master right beside her. She paused, and held out her hand to the side. She heard another pair of footsteps.

 

Mordred didn’t sense another Servant, but still. She saw the outline of a human appear, and her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here, priest?” Assassin gasped, and she grinned. The witch had a weak point after all.

 

Tan fingers scratched spiky white hair, and the priest smiled at Mordred. “I’m sorry, Saber, for interrupting your fight, I asked the other servants to come intervene.”

 

She saw Kairi freeze and then return to normal. She summoned Clarent and held it at the priest’s throat, “And why did you do that, idiot?”

 

“You ignorant child! If you don’t stop pointing your sword at my master’s throat, I will make sure your master dies an agonizing death as his very blood melts his skin,” Assassin said, voice cold.

 

“Saber, if she does do that, kill the priest.” Her Master said, not even breaking a sweat. Mordred smirked, but let the sword down.

 

The priest smiled at Assassin. “There was no need for threats, you shouldn’t worry too much about me, Assassin.”

 

Assassin lifted her nose up in apparent disdain, but Mordred swore she saw a hint of red marring her cheeks. “I wasn’t worried. It would be a pain to find a new source of mana this early in the war.

 

The priest bowed. “I’ll try hard to not be an inconvenience you anymore than necessary, Assassin.”

 

Kairi coughed into his hand, “if you two are done flirting, I’d like to hear why you felt the need to send my servant backup.” Mordred chuckled at the glare Assassin sent her master, to her disappointment, the priest was not even fazed.

 

“Yeah, I’m also curious about that,” Rider said, walking up to them with Lancer. “You sounded pretty worried about this servant Father Kotomine.”

 

A change overcame the priest instantly. His boyish face became strained, and his whole posture changed. “Yes, I was worried. I mean no offense to you, Saber, but when I witnessed Assassin fighting off both you and Berserker. I grew concerned, but I also saw an opportunity to eliminate an isolated servant, and asked the others to assist you.” He bowed low, his head almost touching the ground. “I’m sorry, I should’ve realized that such an action would be an insult to your pride as a knight.”

 

“Che, stop kowtowing especially when you don’t mean it. ” Mordred said, and glared at the priest from behind her helmet. “No, that isn’t right you might mean it, but you’ll do it again in a heartbeat. I can see now why you summoned a witch like her.” She finished, jabbing her thumb backwards toward Assassin.

 

“So harsh, Saber,” Rider muttered, holding both hands up in the air, and shaking his head side to side. His golden eyes flew open and Mordred was momentarily struck by the intensity in those eyes. “Shouldn’t you also be apologizing to Archer and I, priest. You dragged us out of a fight that would’ve likely killed two servants of the Black team, and instead sent us against a coward who fled the instant we showed up.”

 

“He wasn’t a coward.” Lancer said, quietly. Mordred couldn’t place it, but there was an intensity to his voice. It was almost like father’s, but slightly different.

 

Rider laughed, before throwing his muscled arm over Lancer’s shoulder. “Come now, Lancer. There is no shame in admitting that one’s foes are craven.” Lancer blinked, and glanced at the arm on his shoulder, but made no attempt to remove it.

Lancer shook his head, golden chakrams spinning at the motion. “It matters little to me, but you misunderstand. I’m not defending his nature at all. A person like that wouldn’t retreat due to overwhelming odds. He couldn’t for such a reason.”

 

“Who cares whether or not Assassin is a coward. All that matters is he’s gone, and we should leave soon before the Black Faction arrives in force.” Assassin snapped. She was practically hovering over her master.

 

Mordred watched the priest open his mouth before his dark eyes shot to the side, and his mouth snapped shut. “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, but Assassin’s is right, we should leave. before the Black Faction shows up.” He looked up at the treeline. “Archer, Caster, thank you for making sure we weren’t observed during this little meetup.

 

Mordred did not bother looking for Caster, and instead focused on her master. The gash on his hand had stopped bleeding, but there was some very minor swelling on his forehead. She didn’t like to admit, but the priest, and his witch were right. She marched forward, and without breaking stride, grabbed her master’s collar and started dragging him behind her. The Knight of Treachery ignored her vassal’s complaints, and looked at the rest of her “team.”

 

“Priest, if you interfere with any of my fights or if your witch makes any threats toward my master again, I’ll kill you. I swear it.” Mordred said, and to her satisfaction the priest lost his smile, and Assassin scowled at her but said nothing. Beneath her helm, she glanced at her master. “Oi, are you able to walk old man?”

 

Shishigou, for once not wearing those sunglasses, rolled his tawny-colored eyes. “I’ll be fine my liege. Now would you please stop ruining my coat.” He said, and Mordred let go of the scratchy leather. He started smoothing out the dusty jacket.

 

“Shishigou-san,” Saber’s master stopped at the priest’s voice, and Mordred realized he was speaking Japanese. “While I understand you wanting to work alone, I will remind you that the doors of the church are always open if you change your mind.” The words were soft, cloying, and genuine.

 

Saber hated it, but said nothing. Her master hadn’t said anything back, and was instead looking at his bloodied palm. The palm snapped shut, and her master waved his other hand in a bored manner. “I’ll think about it but first I need to get a new pair of sunglasses. Come on Saber, you might get to sleep in a bed after all.”

 

“Hah,” Mordred laughed. She really did have a great retainer. Not that she’d ever tell him, that. Who knew what that would do to his ego? She shook her head, and with her master right by her side, started to walk toward the city.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Kairi Shishigou frowned, and once again tried to make himself comfortable on the hotel-room’s bed. It was so soft he thought he’d fall right through it. The bed groaned as his considerable muscle mass moved on it. His servant snickered, and his eyes snapped to the bathroom where Saber had gone to use the shower. His mouth fell open, and he was barely able to repress the chuckle that almost escaped his lips.

 

Saber, not clad in armor, was still wearing the white tube top he had bought her, but she was now wearing grey pajamas that had lions dotted across them. She walked over to the other bed, and jumped onto it, bouncing on it lightly before sitting criss-cross

 

Saber finally noticed his amusement, and glanced down at her new clothes. “Ehh, are you surprised Master? The lion is a noble creature, and these pants are even more comfortable than the ones before. Why doesn’t everybody wear these all the time?” She asked incredulously while somehow still smug.

 

Kairi raised a bushy eyebrow. “You’ve seen a lion? I didn’t know the British even knew the animal existed during your time.”

 

This was evidently the wrong thing to say as Mordred’s frowned like she had eaten something particularly sour. “We did, although they weren’t widespread.” She muttered, and Kairi ignored the rage he could feel through the Master-Servant bond. “That shitty queen my father chose to marry received one as a gift. Her ownership of it was the only good thing about her. When I had a break, I would go pet it, and I had so much fun wrestling with it.”

 

‘Wrestling a lion was considered playing?’ Kairi thought, but was careful not to say anything. He noticed how Saber was now pulling at one of the lion faces, and her blonde hair was covering her eyes. “ To answer your question about the pajamas it’s considered rude to wear them in public.” He trailed, desperate to get her to think happier thoughts. “Why not get two, when you become king, then.” He said, and Saber’s head shot up so fast he thought her neck had snapped.

 

“That’s a great idea, master!” She said, and Kairi leaned back. Her sea-green eyes were practically sparkling, that or his concussion was making him see things. Probably the latter, all things considered.

 

He rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes. He just wanted to go to sleep. He laid there for at least ten minutes, and just as he was about to sleep. Saber spoke up.

 

“You haven’t changed your mind, right?”

 

Kairi groaned, and dragged a hand through his beard. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I’m talking about that priest’s offer.” Mordred said, and Kairi glanced to the side. She was leaning on the bed, with one arm supporting her face, but she was serious.

 

“I don’t know yet,” the magus replied, after a brief moment of silence.

 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

 

“I mean I don’t know Saber!” Kairi snapped, glaring at Saber. He immediately regretted it. Saber recoiled like he’d punched her, and he was surprised at the remorse he felt when he realized he’d actually offended her. He held up a hand to stop her angry reply. “I don’t know yet Saber. We were going to have to use your Noble Phantasm on that servant, to kill it, and it consistently fought against you and another servant. My gut tells me not to trust those two, but I’m now actually beginning to appreciate the idea of having teammates in this war, at least until that monster is dead, and I am not insulting you Saber!” He said quickly, and to his surprise Mordred didn’t shout back.

 

He glanced down at his chest, where he could feel his heart pounding. “Just thinking about Assassin has made my heart act like a drum. But....” He trailed off the events of the night playing through his mind.

 

“But,” Mordred pressed, shaking her hand to make him continue.

 

“But I don’t buy it,” Kairi said. “I can buy the priest asking for help. Just from a tactical advantage, but the rest of the Masters agreeing to help me. I could see maybe two of them sending their servants to help me, but all of them. No, there’s no way in hell. Half of the reason I avoided the alliance with the priest, in the first place, was that I didn’t want to watch my back with the other masters.” He finished, and the beginnings of a new plan started to form in his mind. “I want to find Assassin’s master tomorrow. See what kind of person they are. Then I’ll make a choice.”

 

Saber looked up at ceiling and sighed, obviously not impressed with his answer

 

“All this trouble just to reach that conclusion, geez, master.”

 

Kairi smiled, “I’ll be sure to worry you less my liege.”

 

“Make sure of it. You’re my vassal, and the quality of the king’s vassals reflect the king’s own quality.” She said, folding her arms while attempting to scowl at him. Geeze, she really was like a child wasn’t she?

 

Kairi opened his mouth to reply, but a yawn came out instead. “Good night, Saber. I’m going to sleep.” He managed before his eyes closed, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

Mordred just sat there and watched him in silence. Soon the only sounds in the room were her master’s even breathing, and the hum of the air conditioner. She glanced at the window, where thin white drapes obscured Trifas. She thought on what had she said about kingship. She frowned, “Geez, Master, you are so troublesome.” She got off the bed and summoned her armor, and held Clarent tight. She would make sure nothing disturbed his sleep.

 

It was the duty of a good king, to take care of such a vassal of high quality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated


	7. Contract 1.7

Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, tried his best to remain calm and composed despite the killing intent threatening to bring him to his knees. He was pretty sure that the only thing keeping him from running away was Berserker’s presence at his side, and Uncle Darnic’s punishment. His sister’s reaction would be apocalyptic to say the least. He tried to discreetly look around the room, and was unsurprised at what he saw.

 

Gordes, or “Uncle Gordes” was sweating like a pig. His portly hands were clenching, and unclenching that gave away the fear he was feeling. Caules almost felt bad for the blonde haired man, but then again, his servant was the exact opposite. The silver haired Saber looked the part of the knight with his black and silver armor. Caules was surprised when he saw the servant glance at Gordes and frown. It was the most emotion Caules had ever seen from him. Saber’s eyes met Caules gaze, and Caules abruptly sought out somebody else to focus on.

 

Instinctively, Caules looked at his sister, and wasn’t surprised to find her staring at him, with a disappointed expression on her face. His paraplegic sister looked as regal as ever in her white, and black uniform. Fiore’s brown hair was done up in a ponytail, and of course she was able to convey her disappointment with one look from her clear blue eyes. Caules ignored her, and looked at her servant. The famous teacher of Greek Heroes wasn’t even fazed by Vlad Tepes’ killing intent. His long brown hair cast his green eyes in shadow, but it was obvious he was utterly focused on what Caster’s familiar had shown them before they were destroyed. Still Fiore was okay, if she could be disappointed in him, and that was all that mattered really.

 

Caules couldn’t tell how Caster felt, as usual. The golden mask, and blue mantle he wore shrouded everything. Roche was far easier to read. The kid was frowning, black shoe tapping the marble impatiently, and Caules stopped himself from rolling his eyes, ‘Really, kid. This killing intent is enough to drive me to my knees, but you’re just upset that the enemy has trashed your servant’s golems. What did you expect them to do?’ He thought.

 

There was a loud bang, and the screeching of metal, and Caules’ attention was drawn back to the owner of that suffocating killer intent. Lancer’s pale and regal features had morphed into a rictus of fury. The black metal of his throne was no match for his B ranked strength. Uncle Darnic wasn’t much better, he was scowling, and Caules had no doubt that the hands clasped behind his back were trying to crush each other through the white gloves.

 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Rider?” Lancer said, voice cold with fury. “You directly lied to your master, and have hindered our efforts to achieve victory by helping that homunculus escape.”

 

“Nah, he asked for my help so I gave it,” The effeminate servant replied, with no hesitation at all, and Caules couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him, as the killing intent intensified.

 

“Lord, although it is not my place to ask, please let me mete out Rider’s punishment,” Celenike begged. The voluptous grey haired woman was glaring daggers at Rider, and Caules shivered for a completely different reason. He had cleaned up after one of her… dalliances with the Homunculi.

 

Lancer paused for a moment, before he glared at Celenike with narrow, yellow eyes. “Be grateful for my generosity, witch. If Rider was not a servant, and Darnic did not have a use for you, you would find yourself impaled, and be made of examples for the price of failure.” He snapped his fingers and a obsidian stake tinged with red energy stabbed Rider’s hands. The servant hissed in pain. “Get out of my sight.”

 

Celenike bowed quickly and Caules tried his best to ignore the way her low cut skirt rode up on her black stockings. It was most definitely not worth it. She smashed her riding crop against the stake impaling Rider’s hand. The servant whined, but dutifully allowed her to drag him out of the room. Caules shook his head, definitely not worth it.

 

“Darnic, you said Sagara was trying to summon Jack The Ripper. That was not Jack the Ripper.” Lancer snapped at his Master. Caules shuddered, a servant that looked like Skeletor had no right to be that terrifying.

 

“My king, I assure you that I will do my best to find out why Sagara has not contacted us. I will also scour the archives to see if this servant had been summoned before.” Darnic said, bowing low, but never looking away from Lancer’s gaze.

 

“Hmm, see that you do,” The Impaler muttered, before his gaze swept across the room. Caules kept himself completely still as those cruel yellow eyes passed over him, before they landed on Chiron. “Chiron, I wish to discuss tonight’s events with you. The rest of you are dismissed.”

 

Caules bowed before leaving the room, Berserker dutifully trailing behind him. He had a long night ahead of him. When Darnic said he was going to do something that often meant Caules and Fiore would be helping him, and since Uncle Darnic, while better than most magus in regards to technology, was severely challenged in that area. It looked like Caules was going to be making some calls.

 

\-----------------------------

 

Siegfried frowned at the scene before him. His master was deep into his cups, and was obviously distressed at the events of the night. Some part of him, wanted to soothe his master’s fears, but his master had ordered him to stay silent, and he would. Seemingly unbidden he felt his frown deepen. His master was undoubtedly a good magus, and even without the aid of the homunculus he would be able to use his noble phantasm, but....

 

'But what? He is my master. I should seek to fulfill his wishes,' He thought only for a new treacherous thought to take place. ‘But what about my own wish?’ That was after all the reason he was fighting, to find his purpose. In life he had fulfilled the wishes of others discarding everything in pursuit of it. He had lost his love of the sword by becoming invulnerable, and unassailable, and he had eventually cast away his own life. Everything in life had been for others. He had never done anything himself.

 

“Master,” His master froze, and Saber was surprised to find that he had spoken.

 

His master glared at him with beady eyes. “Saber, didn’t I order you not to speak!?” He growled, portly face practically purple with rage.

 

Saber ignored the feeling of distaste bubbling within him. “You did, and it is for that reason, that I feel I must speak. It concerns the future of the grail war.” Whatever his master was about to say died in this throat. Good, it meant that his master knew what was important despite his arrogance. But on the other hand, he had no idea what to say. He hadn’t meant to speak in the first place, but it seemed he was committed now.

 

“Though it might seem contradictory, being able to speak to our current allies would give us a far greater advantage than we might have assumed. It would allow for me to better communicate and coordinate with them while on the battlefield, which would definitely help when facing off against foes such as Lancer of Red.” The knight explained, trying to get his master to understand the power of communication on the battlefield.

 

Gordes sputtered, “And you don’t think that you can’t communicate through me to the others, is that not feasible to you?”

 

“It’s not that, it’s just easier for me to be able to talk directly to the other servants rather than speaking through you to their masters and then on to the servant in question.” Siegfried answered. “To that end, I would also like to speak to my fellow servants off the battlefield so that I may understand them.”

 

“And why should I do that?” Gordes scoffed. “Isn’t speaking to them on the battlefield enough?”

 

Saber couldn’t meet his master’s gaze, something that surprised the magus. “It has something to do with my own wish, I must admit. You see, I wish to find....A purpose for myself. In life I fulfilled the wishes of others with no regards to myself. I hope that as a servant. I can find something for myself” The Dragon-Slaying hero muttered almost embarrassed. His head snapped up. “I am still your servant though, and will achieve the grail for you.”

 

Gordes sagged in his chair, mind boggling. A hero without a purpose. The concept was laughable, but the hero of the Netherlands was completely serious. And although he was a prodigy in his family’s magecraft, Gordes was well aware of his lack of experience in regards to combat. It couldn’t hurt, and Siegfried had been an exemplary servant, not at all like Rider. He shrugged, “You have my permission, to speak with the others, and to speak to me whenever.”

 

“Thank you, master.” Siegfried said smiling gently. Gordes could not help but look away, the knights expression was far too bright for him to keep looking at.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Caules sagged against the wooden chair and scowled. Sagara had not returned any of his calls. He glanced to the side and came face to face with Fran. That wasn’t a surprise either. Frankenstein’s Monster had been standing behind him dutifully throughout the whole night.

 

“You can go to sleep, you know that right?” Caules said. It was not like he was going to be using his bed tonight.

 

The cute red-haired monster tilted her head in confusion, and Caules pushed his glasses up. Logically he should just order her to go into spirit-form, but why bother? Fiore did not have Chiron in spirit form, and Berserker clearly enjoyed being able to walk around.

 

His phone buzzed, and Caules shook in surprise. He quickly snatched the phone off the desk, and held it to his ear. “Hello who is this?”

 

“I’m sorry the line was busy, but this is the Park Hyatt Tokyo hotel. How may I help you sir?” A woman asked

 

Caules smirked, finally a lead. At least Sagara hadn’t lied about where he was staying “Yes, tell me did a Hyouma Sagara stay with you recently?”

 

“I’m sorry sir, but no such person stayed with us.” The woman replied high voice turning into a monotone.

 

Dammit, Caules recognized the sound of someone hypnotized. He chewed the bottom of his lip. Think, think. He leaned forward. “Hm, has a host stayed with you recently?”

 

“Yes, sir?” Caules pumped one fist. Hah, he had always known Sagara was a shitty magus, but this just confirmed it. He doubted a regular host could afford a five star hotel either.

 

“Was the host staying with anyone?” He asked carefully, if he was more specific no doubt the mental blocks would be triggered.

 

The woman made a sound of discomfort, “I’m sorry sir, but my head is hurting, but I think...I think he was with a escort, and a child. I..I,” The woman trailed off. He was running out of time.

 

“Describe the child.” Caules ordered, he doubted he could hypnotize somebody over the phone, but the authority of the command should get through.

 

“Ahh, she was red-haired, and had these strange marks on her hand. I’m sorry sir, I have to hang up my head is killing me.” The line cut-off, and Caules ignored the guilt he felt. This was war, if the information he gained helped Fiore survive or win, well who cared if he had to cause a concierge problems. He started up his computer, and booted up a web browser, and typed in the name of the hotel.

 

PARK HYATT HOTEL WINDOW BROKEN; WITNESSES SEE MAN HELD OUT OF IT!. Caules stared at the article for a minute, and ignored Fran peering over his shoulder. She felt the same way he did clearly. “Sagara, you idiot.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The dining room they were in was flooded with killing intent, and Caules briefly wondered why he kept getting himself into these situations. ‘Because Uncle Darnic, is dedicated to the clan, and Fiore can’t be left alone.’ His brain helpfully supplied.

 

Lancer who was sitting at the head of the table, glared at the former. “So not only did one of your clan members lie to you about receiving command seals. He wasn’t even able to obtain them from the child who was rightfully chosen by the grail. With the exception of Lady Fiore, and Young Caules, I despair over the quality of people in Yggdimillenia, Darnic.”

 

His uncle’s blue hair covered his face, but Caules took vindictive pleasure in imagining his uncle’s face taut with fury. “I am sorry my king. I expected too much of Sagara. I will address the matter shortly.”

 

Lancer shook his head, “You will do no such thing. Instead you can coordinate with Caster to find this red haired child. Lord knows she will not look favorably upon us due to the actions of that buffoon. Now leave, Darnic. I wish to talk with Caules. He deserves to be congratulated on his fine work”

 

‘Wait, what does not Dracula want from me?’ Caules thought, barely suppressing a loud gulp. Uncle Darnic rose from his bow, and opened his mouth in protest only to stop short at Lancer’s glare. He hurried out of the room, and the door closed with a loud bang, leaving Caules alone with the Impaler.

 

The pale aristocrat idly sipped from his wine glass, and stared at Caules. Caules lowered his head, and instead focused on the nice mahogany table. It was much better than meeting those cold eyes, and it helped him ignore the sweat forming on his forehead. “Sit boy,” The servant spoke finally. Caules dutifully pulled out a chair, and sat in it. “Look at me, you have no reason to be nervous.”

 

Caules looked up, and was shocked to see Lancer smiling. It reminded Caules of how Uncle Darnic smiled at Fiore, inexperienced, but genuine “See, was that so hard?”

 

“No, your majesty.” Caules replied. He had never been so grateful for his training as a magus then he was now.

 

Lancer smirked, and held out, a partially drunken glass of wine. “Do you want some?”

 

“No, your majesty.”

 

Lancer’s smile didn’t disappear, but it did turn into something monstrous. “I’m thinking of impaling your sister’s head with one of my stakes.”

 

Caules mind worked furiously. He leapt away from the table. ‘Fuck, three command seals. Familiar’s give enough time to use one to summon Berserker. Use the other two to obliterate Lancer.’ He stopped, the killing intent disappeared, and now the only sound in the room was that of clapping.

 

“Darnic was truly wrong about you,” Lancer said and stopped clapping.

 

“That was a cruel joke, your majesty.” Caules muttered, frozen on the spot. The magus’ heart was still pounding, this monster could probably hear it too.

 

“Yes, but a necessary one.” The impaler replied, and pointed at the seat at the end of the table. Caules ignored it. “Darnic sees you and your servant as cannon-fodder.”

 

Caules worked his jaw, and clenched his fist. “I understand that.” He managed through gritted teeth.

 

“And that is why I did not pay you any mind. You understood this, but did nothing. It baffled me, that one could squander their free will and be used as cattle.” The golden haired servant said. He cradled his face with one hand, the moonlight illuminating the pale servant’s features. “But now I see you’re just like your uncle.”

 

“I’m nothing like him,” Caules snapped. Screw, Lancer. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He would have never pressured Fiore into becoming a magus or himself for that matter.

 

“Oh, did you not just put everything on your line to protect your sister?” The servant’s words hit the magus like a truck.

 

“That’s different,” He protested, weakly. “Anybody would do that for their sister.”

 

“Hmm, you say that but the men whose families I impaled with their consent begged to differ.” He took a sip of wine. “I impaled them too of course.” Lancer said. He finished his drink, and set the glass down on the table.

 

Caules tried to say something, but no words escaped his mouth. What did you say to that?

 

“I tested you boy, because I need to know what mortal servants I can trust. Darnic was content to ignore your qualities beyond that of a mage, but I am not. Loathe me, detest me all you want, but serve me faithfully, and I will see your sister alive at the end of this war to the best of my abilities." Lancer smiled at him, but this time the smile reminded Caules of one he saw in the mirror. A sad little thing trying to provide comfort when there really was none.

 

“I understand your majesty. May I have your leave?” Caules finally managed to say through his shock.

 

Vlad Tepes the voivode of Wallachia, waved him away, and watched the boy stumble out. He didn’t even blink before summoning two intercrossing stakes on his left. Berserker abruptly materialized, Kazikli Bey almost punching through her windpipe, and her mace almost caving in Lancer’s skull. “Calm yourself, monster, and attend to your master.” He turned his head, and met Berserker’s glare without fear. The mad servant clearly thought about it for a second before she transformed back into spirit form, leaving Lancer well and truly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Come for the Fluff, stay for the Fluff and Silliness. Well it starts dark, but the light will come. Also I would like to thank Lord Trent Blackmore for his help in being the beta for this fic.


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